


MWM

by Nepetas_Apprentice



Series: Sharpay [1]
Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M, References to Sex, Smoking, nobody has a good time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 06:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8239997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nepetas_Apprentice/pseuds/Nepetas_Apprentice
Summary: AKA Mistakes Were MadePay and Tord both need something in their lives. Something.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted on my tumblr. You can read it [here](http://spicedchocolate.tumblr.com/post/149204084404/mwm)!
> 
> Pay belongs to [trashpandaballs](trashpandaballs.tumblr.com)

Tord never took the blame for anything, so Pay ended up blaming himself.

The overhead light cast crisp black shadows against the bedsheets. The broken AC was sputtering in the window, dripping some cloudy liquid onto the carpet. Pay turned his head, breathing in the stale smell of white cotton sheets. By now, he could not smell the cigar smoke if he tried.

Tord was sitting at the end of the bed, back to him. Neither of them had said anything afterwards, and it seemed that nothing would ever be said, if they kept up like this. Pay kept glancing over, hopeful that he could catch Tord's eye, but only ended up making himself sick. Even if Tord was silent, his hunched back and empty eyes said all he would ever need to.

Pay just wanted to put his clothes on.

He could see his underwear on the left side of the bed, and his shirt was near the door. His pants, though, were nowhere to be found, and he feared that they were somewhere around Tord's feet. He had fuzzy memories of all that had happened in their mad scramble, but he was pretty sure Tord had tossed them towards the end of the bed, and Pay could imagine them slipping onto the floor in all that had come afterwards.

He turned his head again. The sheets smelled awful, and he doubted he would remember to wash them in the morning. Patryk had always been better at remembering that sort of thing. Patryk was better at being responsible. Patryk was better at giving people what they wanted.

"Patryk's just better, isn't he?" he said, a mirthless laugh falling from his lips before he could help himself.

Tord tensed. It had been too long since either of them spoke, and the words moved into the silence unwelcome, pushing and shoving into a space that did not fit them. Pay thought they might just return to silence afterward, but Tord sighed and another cloud of cigar smoke filled the room.

"And Paul's the one worth fighting for, no?" he replied.

Pay realized that he was holding back tears, so he pulled the sheet up over his face, despite knowing that Tord wasn't going to look back. From here, the light did not seem so ugly or harsh. He could almost pretend it was romantic, a mood lighting set up for someone special, thought out ahead of time, not flicked on seconds before they were both naked.

He blinked, and one of his tears broke free and rolled down his cheekbone, right into his ear. God, he needed to stop thinking.

He rubbed his eye with the sheet and then peeked out again, only exposing his eyes.

"Can I borrow that?" he asked.

Tord looked back, taking in Pay's appearance for a moment. If he had any thoughts on it, he did not voice them, didn't even quirk an eyebrow. Instead, he pushed back and crawled across the bed on all fours, minus the hand holding out his cigar. Pay took it and brought it to its lips.

It tasted like Tord.

The realization made him choke and cough, pulling the cigar away from himself as he struggled to catch his breath. Tord looked on, expression betraying nothing.

“Careful,” he said, reaching out to take the cigar back.

“’M fine,” Pay said, taking another drag. He could still taste Tord on it, but he was able to ignore it a bit as his muscles started to relax. He took a third drag, then passed it back, watching as Tord stuck it between his teeth while he leaned back on one of his hands. This was better, Pay thought. Having Tord looking at him, it was an improvement.

Eventually, he found the strength to sit up, knees to his chest with his arms resting on top of them. Tord was staring at him, and a few times Pay would find the strength to glance back and take in the man’s appearance. His hair was a mess, likely not as bad as Pay’s. His face was red, easily noticeable on his pale skin. There were dark circles under his eyes.

Pay ran a hand along his shoulders, feeling for the bite marks. He had yelped when Tord bit down on him, and even now they stung when he ran his fingers over them.

He glanced at Tord, still watching him, staring at the marks himself. Pay dropped his hand and looked away.

“This was a mistake,” he said, “wasn’t it?”

He heard Tord shuffle on the bed, another puff of smoke. He couldn’t tell who was breathing louder.

“Yes,” Tord said, cracking into Pay’s heart. “But it was fun in the moment.”  


Pay pulled the sheet back over his head. From here, it was possible for him to keep living his fantasy, pretend that Paul had been the one holding him, kissing him, claiming him. That the weight on the bed next to him was not the man who lusted after his brother, but a kind soul, one who loved Pay and thought he was just good enough.

“Yeah,” Pay said, feeling another tear creep out. “Yeah, it was fun.”


End file.
